Curiosity Got The Cat
by ArianaFaithful
Summary: Hermione Granger is determined to do something with her life. Enter Blaise Zabini with a very convienient business proposal. But it's hard to avoid business partner, Malfoy, when he's off helping orphans and trying to make the world a better place.
1. Lucinda's

**Lucinda's**

Hermione tugged her pullover around herself tighter, expelling the cool air from the midst of her coverings. Her shoes clacked over the stone street as she walked past Gringotts, sounding strangely high pitched over the near silence. Tugging on her pullover again, and then pulling the books clutched to her chest even tighter, she quickened her pace. Something felt out of place.

Hermione glanced into the still empty store of Olivander's Wands. The windows and door were boarded up with mismatched planks of wood. There was barely any light peeking in through the gaps to light the inside of the store. Hermione spun around to scan the rest of the street behind her. There were still several shops which had not been repaired since Voldemort's defeat.

Why was there no one out on the street?

She continued quickly up the street, passing the entrance to Knockturn Alley, and shuddered as a howl seemed to echo up from it. Hermione felt a hundred eyes watching her from behind, yet every time she spun around there was no one there. Clutching the pile of books in one hand, she withdrew her wand from its sleeve holder, which she had kept since last year. Shadows seemed to be filing in from the side of the street, and she muttered _lumos_ under her breath. Goosebumps ran up and down Hermione's body as she caught sight of Flourish and Blotts and quickly stepped inside.

The door shut behind her with the merry tinkle of a door bell, and she walked calmly over to the counter. A man with a white beard stepped out from a door behind the counter. He had aged eyes and wore a faded brown waistcoat.

"Morning sir," Hermione began, placing the three heavy books down on the counter. "I received these as gifts over Christmas, except I already have copies of them. I was wondering if I could perhaps exchange them for other books?"  
The old man nodded at Hermione and selected the book on top of the pile. It was a rusty brown colour, with gold trimming up the spine.

"Ah," the man said, a gleam in his eye. "_Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._ A classic to be sure."

Hermione beamed at him. "My favourite chapter is the one with Harry Potter in it. It's fascinating to learn about him and the reasons behind his scar."

"Oh-ho yes indeed. That Mr Potter was a fine example of Great Wizarding to be sure. Still can't believe You-Know-Who's gone forever, hey?"

Hermione nodded, fully understanding that, even a year on, her life still felt surprising empty without Voldemort. She had been struggling to come to terms with what to _do_ with her life now that Harry didn't need her brains to discover ways of beating Voldemort, and Ron didn't need her steadfast calm in the face of certain death.

"Ah well," the old man muttered, picking up the second book in the pile. He chuckled merrily, "_Flesh Eating Trees of the World?_ Who gave you this one?"

Hermione blushed. "A friend. Thought it would be quite the laugh. Of course, when I told him I'd read it back in sixth year, Ron didn't seem to think the joke was all he thought it would be."

He turned the red book over in his hands, his eyes skimming the blurb on the back cover. He gave the book another hearty chuckle before placing it down on top of _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ and picked up the final book Hermione had brought in.

"_Enchantment in Baking."_

The old man merely said the name of the green book aloud, rather than discussing its background with Hermione. He looked up at her, placing the final book back with the previous two.

"Yes, everything seems in order. The total comes to 28 Galleons, so you may choose to purchase anything and that will be taken off the price."

Hermione bobbed her head at the old man, who strolled back into the room behind the counter, leaving Hermione alone with a large roomful of books.

This was dangerous that the most decent of times, leaving Hermione alone in a room of books, let alone a store which was currently home to almost a whole wall full of brand new stock. Hermione walked slowly around the closest bookcase, her finger gently thrumming along the titles of books as she looked. She was quick to discover it was a shelf on Quidditch, and so began searching for a book for either Harry or Ron. So what if Christmas had just passed? They could always benefit from more reading.

Hermione pulled several titles off the shelves and scanned the covers, only to put them back. She was sure Harry had once owned _Quidditch Through the Ages._ And she knew that Ron had borrowed _Beating the Bludgers: A Study of Defensive Strategies in Quidditch_ from the library during their sixth year. In fact, she remembered how Madame Pince had stiffly told her to make sure that Ron returned it by the end of the seventh week he had had it, or he would have a detention for it being over-due. Chuckling to herself, she placed the book back on the shelf and brushed upstairs to the top level of books.

A good two hours later, Hermione walked back up to the counter and gently pressed the bell for service. The old man shuffled back into the room and plucked up the books, scanning them with his wand and skimming over the titles.

Hermione looked down at the four books she had chosen on: _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection, Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions, Notable Magic Names of Our Time_ and _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes._ She had selected them all carefully. As these books would become the foundation for what she was planning. If she could convince Harry…

Hermione, whose mind was quite out of the room, dreamily handed over the four extra galleons needed to pay for the books and collected her package.

Hermione stepped out of the store to find night settling. Diagon Alley, she noticed, was still increasingly quiet. Hoisting the bag of books more comfily onto her shoulder she began down the street, pondering what to do for dinner.

Hermione glanced up at the darkening sky. It was eerily quite and dark for six o'clock at night. Normally Diagon Alley was bustling with people doing some evening shopping or eating out at several of the new restaurants that had opened up recently.

"Hermione!?" a voice called from behind her.

"Blaise?" Hermione said, her guard instantly picking up at the sight of the Slytherin.

Blaise Zabini chuckled as he looked Hermione up and down good naturedly. "Might I say that life outside of Hogwarts is treating you very well."

"Thanks," she said slowly, cocking her head slightly to the side. "You too."

Blaise was wearing a black muggle suit. Hermione noticed that muggle clothing had since become increasingly popular in the wizarding world, so much so that the only people who regularly wore dress robes were people the age of her parents. Blaise's dark skin was hard for Hermione to see clearly in the long shadows of the shop lights, but she noticed he still remained fairly good looking, as he had been at Hogwarts.

Blaise stuffed two hands into his pant pockets. "So what are you doing out tonight?"

Hermione glanced down at the bag of books and lifted them up for him to see.

"I had to return a few books I got for Christmas," she said, still not completely comfortable in his presence. He hadn't talked to her during school, except generally when Malfoy would make cruel remarks to herself, Ron or Harry, or any other Gryfindor for that matter.

"Ah, I see," he said with a very easy smile. "Have you read Hubert's new book on Dumbledore and the Dark Lord?"

Hermione nodded, her love of books opening her up to his near stranger.

"Yes, I got that for Christmas. Incredible, isn't it, how so many people claim to know so much about both Dumbledore and Voldemort."

Blaise let out a harsh laugh and rolled his eyes. "Especially Skeeter and that bloody book of hers."

Hermione nodded in complete agreement. "I know!" she cried, slightly uncharacteristically.

"Well look Hermione," Blaise said, whipping around his arm and checking his watch. "I had a reservation to keep, so I best be going."

Hermione nodded, "yeah, I should get going too."

"I'll see you around then."

Hermione smiled and nodded, then continued towards the Leaky Cauldron without waiting for Blaise to leave. A few seconds later she heard a shout.

"Oi! Granger!"

She spun around.

"Yeah Zabini?" she shouted to him.

"Is it true you're looking to start your own business?"

Hermione paced back to Blaise. She nodded.

"Yeah. Well, sort of. How did you know?"

"It's going around," Blaise grinned at her. "I might be able to help you out. I'm an investor of sorts. How would you like to discuss business over dinner?"

Hermione glanced at her watch then shrugged.

"Er, okay. Sure."

"Excellent!" Blaise beamed at her, grabbing her elbow and steering her towards a restaurant called _Lucinda's_. He held the glass door open for her, ushering her into the cosy foyer. A waiter breezed past, a tray of drinks on his arm.

"Have a seat here, I'll be with you in a moment."

Blaise nodded and took a seat next to Hermione beside the door.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked. "I've never noticed it before."

Blaise looked around fondly. "This is one of my investments. Once You-Know-Who was defeated, a lot of remodelling and modernising happened here in Diagon Alley."  
Hermione nodded along, already knowing what he was telling her.

"I opened up a business with my business partner and we tried to get a lot of wizarding London back on its feet. This was our first endeavour."

Hermione smiled at Blaise.

"Wow, that's really resourceful of you, Blaise." Hermione complimented, gazing around at the red plush carpet and golden table and chairs. "It's so pretty."

"Thanks. We're both really proud of this place. It's like our child."

"Who's your partner?" Hermione asked, tearing her eyes from the restaurant and fixing them on Blaise. "Do I know him or her?"

Blaise raised a hand to his head, his eyes scrunched in awkwardness, which alerted Hermione she wasn't going to like his answer.

"Um, yeah you do know him…"

"It's Malfoy isn't it?" Hermione sighed.

"Well, kinda."

"So, if I agree to this business deal, I'll be working with Malfoy?" Hermione said, almost ready to stand up, tell Blaise thanks, but she couldn't accept and then head on home.

"Not directly, if you don't want to."

Hermione cocked her head in slight relief. "Oh."

"So you still up for dinner? Malfoy is coming."

"You know what Zabini?" Hermione said, rising to her feet as the waiter returned. "Bring it on."

The waiter greeted Blaise and Hermione warmly.

"Reservation for Malfoy," Blaise stated.

"Ah, come this way please."

Hermione followed the waiter and Blaise past all the dinning tables into a secluded table in the far corner.

Blaise pulled out a chair for Hermione, who sat down. The waiter pulled out two menus, which had been tucked under his arm and set them down.

"We're going to need an extra seat tonight, Terry," Blaise said before taking the other seat at the table.

The waiter, Terry, nodded and pulled a seat from a nearby empty table and set an extra place. He then pulled the napkins off the table and tucked them onto both Hermione and Blaise's laps.

"Thanks Terry."

Hermione smiled at Blaise and then picked up a menu, skimming over the options.

"What's good here?" she asked.

"Everything," Blaise said with a twinkle in his eye. "But personally, I'd recommend either the Duck or the Salmon."

Hermione nodded, reading through the two descriptions on her menu.

Blaise placed down his menu and looked at Hermione.

"I'm going to have the salmon tonight," he stated. "What about you?"

"I think I'll go with the duck," Hermione said with a cheeky smile.

She was finding Blaise very easy to get along with, quite unlike his partner, or even Ron half of the time. He seemed very smart and witty, which Hermione found very attractive in a person.

Why had he been such a prat during Hogwarts? They were getting alone fine now, only a year later. Well, two. She hadn't returned for her seventh year. But regardless, they seemed to have a lot in common. And so many people had changed so drastically since Voldemort's defeat, Hermione figured.

"A fine choice, m'lady," Blaise said smoothly, swiping up her menu and stacking it on top of his.

"So when should Malfoy be arriving?"

"Anytime now," Blaise said.

The waiter returned, and Blaise ordered for them both. Hermione sighed and looked around the room. It was very fancy, and not as expensive as she would have thought. She would bring Harry and Ron here and see what they thought.

"So, Miss Granger," Blaise said, pulling out a conference book and pen from inside a briefcase at his feet. "Tell me about this business of yours."

Hermione nodded.

"Okay, well I would like to run a sort of education centre which deals with defence against the dark arts. I'm thinking it would be a place graduates of Hogwarts could go to for more background before starting a job such as an auror. Do you know what a university is?"

"No," Blaise said, looking up from his notes. "Can you explain it to me?"

"Well a university is a form of muggle schooling when a student finishes high school, so Hogwarts in our case, and needs further education for a job, such as becoming a doctor or lawyer. Does that make sense?"

Blaise nodded slowly, as if trying to understand by processing the information slower than she had said it. "So it's like a higher system of learning for more educated jobs?"

"You could say that, yes," Hermione agreed. "I would like to set up a sort of university which would primarily be based around the defensive spells. I think a lot of parents would encourage their children to attend a place like that after these last few years. It would make people a lot less vulnerable, and it wouldn't be just for people who want further training to achieve a job... anyone could go really. I was hoping Harry might teach or lecture maybe once a week. That should help bring in initial students. Then when it's up and running we can expand on it. Create a library, maybe focus on different areas aside from just defence."

Blaise looked up when he finished writing.

"Hermione... that's genius!"

"What's genius?" a cool, aristocratic voice drawled above them. Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy pulling out the spare chair and sitting down beside her.

Blaise pushed his notes towards Malfoy. "Our newest line of investment."

Malfoy skimmed over the notes and pushed them back to Blaise.

"Not bad Granger. I have to hand it to you. You always were brilliant."

Hermione's mouth twitched, unable to form a smile in his presence.

"Thanks Malfoy," she said. She was just waiting for an insult, or a pointing out of a flaw in her school plans, or even a comment on her blood.

Nothing came.

Had the battle at Hogwarts and the year past changed one man so greatly?

Actually, looking at Harry, that wouldn't be so hard to believe. Even looking at herself and Ron. They were all much different, all feeling as though they were twice as old as they really were. They all felt the feeling of relief at no longer fighting death constantly. The feeling of uncertainty of what to do now Voldemort was gone.

Perhaps Malfoy had changed. Maybe he was still Malfoy, just less… Malfoy-like? It made sense in her head. Had the final battle really opened Malfoy's eyes so much that he no longer considered blood status or house rivalry to mean anything? Maybe…

Blaise interrupted her train of thought.

"Oh, Draco, mate. We already ordered…"

Malfoy shook his hand at Blaise. "Not to worry, Terry asked me what I wanted when I came in. He said you had already ordered. Did you get a drink?"

Blaise shook his head and called for a waiter.

Terry came back to their table and walked away with an order of three drinks. Hermione hadn't been paying much attention as she realised, for the first time she had stepped foot inside _Lucinda's_, that she was completely under dressed.

Both Blaise and Malfoy wore nice suits, as did the rest of the men dining there. Most of the women were wearing nice dresses, their make up done and high heels adorning their feet. Hermione was wearing a pullover and jeans. She blushed.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said, getting up.

Blaise pointed in the direction of the women's toilets and she made a bee line for them.

Once inside, having made sure no one else was in there, she conjured up a chair so she could sit in front of the sink and mirror. She needed to take out her hair… maybe put on some lipstick and eye liner. She pulled a small make up bag from her purse and placed it on the counter.

Tugging a hair band out of her hair, she slipped it around her wrist and fluffed up her hair. It was big and curly, as it always had been; only now, it was starting to come into fashion. This made Hermione thankful; as she could simply leave it how it was naturally and people would comment on it, wondering how long it had taken her to style it so perfectly. It was a complete turn around from her days at Hogwarts.

She quickly smeared a layer of foundation onto her face, covering her freckles and then wound up her red lipstick. When she was done she nodded to her reflection, put the make up bag back in her purse and vanished the chair. What would she do about her clothes?

She peered down at her flats, then pointed her wand at them. She seemed to grow several inches in the mirror and looked back down at her shoes. The flats now had heels, which made her jeans much more presentable. Good, Hermione, she thought.

She pulled off her jumper and looked at the shirt she was wearing underneath. It was a white button up, long sleeve shirt, with small pastel purple stripes running up and down it. She unbuttoned the top two buttons and tucked the shirt into her jeans. She adjusted necklace to draw attention to her bust line and found herself ginning at her reflection. And Ginny had muttered under her breath just last month that Hermione couldn't understand fashion if it bit her in the butt.

She looked like a high power business women on a mission.

Hermione collected all her stuff and draped her pullover over her arm before heading back to the table. When she returned she pulled the jumper over the back of the seat and placed her purse down beside her bag of books.

Blaise and Malfoy, who were sipping on what appeared to be firewhisky, finished their conversation and turned to Hermione.

To Hermione's inner joy, they both seemed to do a double take at her appearance, and seemed to like it.

Take that Ginny! Hermione inwardly smirked.

She and Ginny had never really got along all that well, and more recently, Ginny had been saying things when she hadn't thought Hermione could hear her. It hurt when she heard Ginny bitching about her, and ever since Christmas, when Ginny had first started, their relationship had been going downhill.

"Sorry about that," Hermione said, plucking up her glass of butterbeer. "What were we talking about?"

"Your new school," Malfoy said, peering across at Blaise's notes.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Yes. I will need to create a curriculum first, and maybe write up some text books. I really hope Harry might be interested in teaching a course, and I could run it as well as teach. Oh, and Ernie might be interested. He is a bit old fashioned, but he certainly knows his charms."

Both Blaise and Malfoy glanced at each other. Hermione appeared to be talking to herself now.

"Should I write all this down?" Blaise interrupted.

Hermione shook her head. "No, no. I can remember it all."

"If you're sure…" Malfoy trailed off.

"Oh!" Hermione cried.

Both Malfoy and Blaise look startled.

"What is it?" Malfoy said quickly.

"We could have a pre-Hogwarts class! Like a kindergarten or preschool! Teddy could learn there before he goes to Hogwarts… and he could meet friends. I could teach them simple spells like _lumos_, and then they could have reading time… they could make drawings of animals when Hagrid comes and teaches them about different magical creatures…"

"Hermione?" Blaise said.

"And then we could hang them up around the room and we could learn about a different creature each week."

"Hermione!"

"Oh, sorry."

"Listen, we'd be very happy to help you set this school up. Would you be able to come into my office on Monday around 11am and we can talk costs, classes, locations excreta?" Blaise asked.

Hermione nodded. "That would be great."

"Excellent!" Blaise beamed as their meals arrived. "We can use the rest of this dinner to catch up with you, Hermione. What have you been doing since last year?"

Hermione took a bite of the duck. "Wow this really is good. Well, I've been trying to get S.P.E.W off the ground in my spare time. I've been working around the ministry a little bit, and adding to a collection of research I've been doing."

"What's the research about?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione found herself somehow not completely shocked that she was sitting at a table with Malfoy and Zabini, eating dinner and holding a normal conversation. However, weirder things _had_ happened.

"Well, in the beginning it involved a lot of revising and adding notes to Skeeter's book," Hermione said, nodding towards Blaise. "Since then I've been studying a lot of the older spells that had fallen into disuse, and the evolved forms of them. I'm trying to come up with a new line of defensive spells, and I think my school would be a great place for people to do similar research and learn these new spells."

"Impressive," Blaise said.

Hermione blushed. "Oh no, not really. It just interests me a great deal, and I really enjoy doing it."

"I heard you also took your N.E.W.T.S outside of school, just before Christmas?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione nodded as she finished her side salad and took a large sip of her butterbeer. "I took them just after our year graduated."

"But you weren't at school all of last year." Blaise pointed out.

"I did some fast tracking in the month leading up to when I took them. I covered all the criteria on the exams."

"Wonders never do cease with you Granger," Malfoy drawled. Hermione couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Yes. Well," she said, cutting up the rest of her duck. "You two formed a company?"

Blaise nodded, chasing down the last of his salmon with his firewhisky.

"It's pretty under the radar of the public at the moment. We call it MZ & Co."

"Malfoy Zabini and Company?" Hermione asked, chuckling.

Malfoy nodded. A small smirk crept up his face, and Hermione realised she hadn't seen that smirk since quite a few years.

"Not the greatest name ever, but it does the job."

"You know Malfoy, you're really different," Hermione said, staring at him as he pushed his finished plate away.

"I get that a lot," he said, looking up at her.

Hermione twitched her mouth, again unable to fully smile in his presence. She bent her head over and finished the last of her meal.

After desert, Hermione parted ways with both Blaise and Malfoy at the restaurant's door. She paced mindlessly towards the Leaky Cauldron. Her idea, her school, her baby was finally getting off the ground.

She walked through the stone archway and wove her way around the tables of the pub to the fireplace. Hermione took a pinch of floo power and stepped inside the large stone fireplace.

"Apartment C!" she cried, and spun away from Diagon Alley surrounded by green flames.

Hermione stepped out of her fireplace calmly, brushing a small amount of soot off her shoulder. The living room was dark, but she could make out the TV and the couch from the moonlight that was coming in through the window. Hermione placed the bag of books down on the coffee table in front of the couch and made her way through the living room into the kitchen.

Thoughts still on Blaise, Malfoy and her new school, she filled the kettle and began heating it over the stove. She hadn't even bothered to flick the light on. Hermione reached into the top cupboard and pulled out a mug and flicked a bag of tea into her cup. When the kettle was boiled, she poured the steaming water into her cup and padded into her bedroom, ready to curl up with a book and fall asleep.

Hermione placed the tea onto her bedside table and spun around to look for pyjamas.

She screamed.

There was someone standing in her bedroom.


	2. Breakout

**Breakout**

Hermione flapped a hand across her heart as Harry stumbled up from a chaise in the corner of her bedroom. His black hair hung across his eyes … his eyes. They were bloodshot and drooping. Dirt caked his face and his arms, and had fallen onto the chair and carpet around him. Blood stained his lips and dripped slowly onto dried, cracking blood out of his nose. His wand was clasp in his limp hand, filthy. Several large scratches lined themselves up his arms, and had ripped through his shirt and onto his chest.

"Harry!" Hermione breathed, terrified.

She hurried towards him, pulling her wand out.

"What happened to you?" she cried, placing a hand behind his back as he winced. "You have to go to St Mungo's!"

Harry shook his head venomously.

"No!" he croaked, stumbling.

"Okay… er… shh, shh, just lie down. You'll be fine. I've got you."

Hermione escorted Harry over to her bed and gently placed his head on one of her pillows. She directed her wand to remove Harry's shoes and socks, and they floated over to the doorway and placed themselves neatly on the carpet. Hermione then removed his entire shirt with a spell and bit back a grimace. Purple and black bruises lined each cut, and stretched diagonally across his entire torso.

"Harry," she said as she cleaned up the blood from Harry's nose with her wand, and stopped the flow. "Who did this to you? I need to know if there is a poison in these wounds."

Able to breathe through his nose once more, Harry took in a rattling breath.

"Death Eaters," he wheezed, coughing violently. "I think… ah! I think… there is p-poison."

With her wand, Hermione sliced away the majority of Harry's torn jeans into shorts to inspect his legs. There were pinpricks of blood oozing from cuts smaller, but not dissimilar to the ones on his chest and arms.

Hermione turned to Harry and looked him directly in the eyes. They held a horrible consistency to them, and the green irises had dimmed and seemed more grey than she had ever seen them. Trying not to let her extreme fear show to Harry, she attempted to smile at him.

"Do you know what type of poison?" she asked, while at the same time silently _accioing_ a potions book off her bookcase from the other room.

It zoomed in and set itself down neatly on the bedside table with a gentle bump. Harry shook his head, then coughed violently again. Blood appeared in his hands when he pulled them away from his mouth.

Hermione nodded, grabbing the book up from the bedside table and began skimming though it. Within seconds she had stopped, placed her finger across the black ink words and was reading fervently.

"Purple and black bruising around the slices…" she read, then peer down at Harry's injuries, checking them closely. "… putrid smell from the blood…" Hermione knelt closely to the blood and recoiled. "Yes … discolouring of the skin surrounding the slices… yes…"

Hermione stood up and shut the book.

"Harry you've been poisoned with Boomslang venom. A bezoar won't help this. I'm going to have to administer you some antidote before I can fully clean and repair the wounds on your chest, arms and legs, otherwise the venom won't be able to leave your blood."

Hermione hoped that by talking him through it, he would remain conscious. She was deadly worried as his face continued to pale with every passing minute. If she couldn't quickly brew the antidote, within the hour, she was horribly afraid of his survival rate.

She placed a numbing spell across his body, to help with the pain, and then ran to her linen closet, pulling out the first sheet she could get her hands on. She quickly filled the bath tub with warm water and began tearing up the sheet into small strips. As she was soaking the sheet, she _accioed_ her potions books, cauldron and vast potions supply bag she kept in a box next to her bookshelf.

Hermione glanced in at Harry, pulling soaking strips of cotton from the bathtub and wringing them out. She lit a fire under the cauldron and flicked her wand at an antidote potions book. It flipped open to the page she had in mind as she hurried out of her ensuite and across to Harry with the ripped sheet.

Hermione lay the strips down across his many slices and bruises, hoping to slow the bleeding, and to keep him warm. She pressed a hand to his forehead, which was coated with a sheen of sweat. His eyes were rolling back in their sockets, and Hermione knew if she wanted him to live she had to put all her effort into the potion, and not focus on Harry's pain.

Hurrying back to the potion, she began slicing the fluxweed and hellebore, dropping them into the cauldron along with a small vial of _Ruskelin's General Snake and Insect Antidote Aid to Venoms, Bites and Stings_ she had picked up at a wizarding market several weeks back. Ruskelin, who had been manning his stall at the market, had assured her she could add the antidote to any potion to ensure full potency and quicker brewing time. She had bought several vials and had tested one out the night she got back from the market, and to her delight it had worked exactly as he had described.

Hermione began stirring counter-clockwise as per the instructions in the text book. As the potion settled to mild blue, she sighed in relief, knowing she had to leave it for seven minutes before she could add the seeds of a venomous tentacula.

Hermione then pulled out a small tube of wound cleansing paste she had acquired from Madam Pomfrey from a drawer in her bathroom. She returned to Harry's side, dread filling her as she noted his unconscious form. Hermione dropped the tube by his side and placed her cheek directly above his mouth and placed a firm hand on his wrist, checking for a pulse.

There was a faint, slow pulse in his wrist, and the gentlest breathing exiting his mouth as Harry struggled to stay alive. Panic welled up in Hermione's chest and tears began running across her cheeks as she lifted the cotton strips, one at a time, and began rubbing small amounts of the paste into his wounds before covering them back up with the cotton. As she covered each wound with the purple paste, it steamed and itched her fingers. Grimacing, she continued on. When she had completed his chest, she dropped the paste and scurried into the bathroom to check on the potion.

The cauldron was steaming, a blue steam was issuing towards the ceiling from its rim. Hermione checked the sand keeper and noted she could begin adding seeds. As she administered them to the potion, and began stirring counter-clockwise again, the blue substance in the cauldron became agitated and began to froth at the brim.

Leaving the potion for another two minutes, Hermione ran out to Harry, and vanished all of the paste from his wounds in preparation for the potion. She peeled back the strips of cotton sheet and threw them to the floor in blood soaked wads. The wounds looked slightly less discoloured, and the bruising had toned down from the black pigment to purples and pinks. Returning back to the cauldron, she bottled her potion and set several cooling potions on it, so not to burn Harry when he took it.

Praying it would work in time, Hermione returned to Harry's side, and lifted his torso up into a sitting position with her wand. Cradling his head, Hermione slowly poured half of the vial down his throat, making sure to shut his mouth so it wouldn't go to waste. Laying Harry on his back, Hermione used the rest of the potion to pour directly into his wounds.

She began with the largest slice, which stretched from across his left underarm, across his pectoral, barely missing his belly button and stopped just before his waistline. The flesh was ripped open, and it was onto this wound she poured a small amount of the potion, running the brim of the vial along the slice without touching the flesh. As soon as the antidote hit the wound, it steamed from his body, hissing. The steam was the removal of the poison from each of his wounds.

As she moved along the slice in his chest, behind her hand, where the antidote had already been dropped, seemed to pull back together, the bruising drew back into the wound and mostly disappeared, and blood flow slowed down considerably. Hermione sighed in relief.

However, not out of the woods quite yet, Hermione finished administering the antidote across his chest, arms and legs. She placed a hand up to Harry's forehead and let out a tiny sigh of relief. He was beginning to warm up, and looked a little less pale. Hermione now set her concentration to sewing the flesh back together with her wand, now that the venom was gone. She worked slowly, methodically. She used all her will power to sew them back together in a way which would cause almost no scarring at all. Harry didn't need anymore scars.

When she was done with sewing up the wounds, and double checking Harry was still breathing – simply for peace of mind, Hermione set to cleaning all the blood of his body. Deciding to skip the magic, Hermione returned to the bath tub, using a spell to reheat it and to make it soapy. She then pulled out wads of the cotton sheet and returned to Harry, using it to gently wet and heat the skin, then to wipe away all the blood. When Hermione was satisfied Harry was entirely clean, she cleaned away all her materials and the cotton sheet.

Hermione decided to grab a Draught of Peace from the cabinet in the kitchen, as well as a large glass of water and a blood replenishing potion she had in the bottom of her pantry. She returned to Harry's side, placing the draught, water and the potion onto the bedside table. Using her wand, Hermione began to revive Harry.

Slowly, he woke up. His eyes, still more grey and uninhabited than ever fluttered open. Harry groaned, and rubbed his eyes, opening them to see Hermione. Hermione gave Harry a watery smile as he blinked and she slowly came into focus.

"Erh," Harry grumbled, clasping a hand to his throbbing head.

"Shh, Harry," Hermione said, handing him the glass of water. "Don't talk yet. Drink this. There's a calming draught if you want it…?"

Harry shook his head as he sipped the water. When he had emptied the glass, Hermione took it from him and set it down on the bedside table.

"So," she said, giving him a sad smile. "How are you feeling? Do you have pain anywhere?"

"Eh, just a headache," he said slumping back down into the pillows. His eyes began drooping, and Hermione placed a kiss on his forehead just before he fell asleep.

Harry remained in Hermione's bed for the duration of that night the entire day afterwards. Hermione conjured a makeshift bed for herself out of the chaise and tried to be around Harry as much as she could, keeping an eye out for any opening of the wounds or vomiting – sure symptoms something had gone wrong with the potion. He dosed fitfully during the entire time, waking up for brief, five minute stints at irregular hours, feeding on pieces of toast, or drinking down some water mixed with the blood replenishing potion.

Harry's colour returned, the bruising disappeared and the cuts healed up entirely. Hermione lay in bed, watching over Harry, covering herself up with several blankets from her linen closet. She wept silently at the ordeal, thankful that Harry was okay.

* * *

"Harry?" Hermione whispered gently.

Harry looked up at her in the doorway from Hermione's bed.

"Yeah?" he said, as Hermione placed a mug of tea on the bedside table.

"I think you need to tell me what's going on, don't you?" she said, moving over to the bed and sitting down next to him.

"There's been a Death Eater breakout at Azkaban."

Hermione's eyes slipped shut. She suddenly felt tired – so tired. Was it not enough that Voldemort had already condemned the last several generations to living hell? Did some unforeseen god or ancient wizard sit back with a bag of popcorn and a soda and simply laugh and entertain themselves through the hurdles and hoops they threw at her? at Harry, and Ron? at the rest of the wizarding world?

Hermione let out a huge gush of air, and turned to Harry. All her sudden anger disappeared. There it was – that lonely, dulling of Harry's eyes – which had only just seemed to recover since Voldemort was gone. It was the piercing, haunting look of them which would constantly bring Hermione up sharp.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

* * *

_Harry Potter stood inside the elevator as it trundled horizontally towards his office. One hand gripped a take-away coffee cup, while the other was blearily wiping sleep out of his eyes. His suit pants were crumpled, and his shirt had a stain of toothpaste on the collar. Harry shut his eyes and inhaled a long draught of coffee as the elevator music chimed around him. _

_The elevator stopped, sending Harry stumbling out of the door, before the elevator popped closed again and hovered off. He made his way around the cubicles to section at the far left. Harry could see a burst of bright orange hair which informed him Ron was already at his cubicle. _

_Harry shuffled into his own cubicle, setting the paper cup down onto his desk and peering over at Ron. _

"_Hey Harry," Ron said, leaning back in his chair. Harry noticed Ron was wearing his pyjama shirt underneath his jacket. _

"_Hi Ron," Harry said, sitting down opposite Ron, watching as he pulled a large folder onto his desk. _

"_Is Hopkins here?" Harry asked searching the immediate area. _

"_Here Potter," Wayne Hopkins said, bringing over a pile of documents and seating himself at the third cubicle. _

"_Er, right," Harry said. "Do you know why we're here?"_

_Hopkins shook his head. "Robard's said that we should meet him in his office; he should only be another five minutes or so."_

"_Robard's is still in a meeting," Ron said, yawning. _

_Robards, since becoming Head Auror, had stopped field work and had taken very well to becoming their department head. __Harry nodded and finished the last of his coffee, throwing the empty cup into the trash. _

_As Harry, Ron and Hopkins sat at their cubicles, Robards strode past them, back from his lunch break. All three quickly dove into their drawers and pulled out quills, sticking out their tongues in mock concentration as they waved their quills back and forth, pretending to mark the parchments in front of them. Without a word, Robards' slammed his office door closed. _

_Harry, Ron and Hopkins all stood up to look towards Robard's office, and then turned to each other exchanging worried looks. Seconds later, a short, frumpy witch in a brilliant blue robe jostled past them. She drew herself up to her full height and rapt on Robard's office door. _

_The door was flung open and the witch darted inside. Harry, Ron and Hopkins all sat down in their chairs._

"_What do you think that's about?" Harry wondered aloud. _

_Hopkins shrugged his shoulders._

"_I know how we can find out!" Ron said triumphantly as a pair of extendable ears emerged from his bottom drawer._

_Harry and Hopkins exchanged glances once again as Ron jumped up and ran towards Robard's office. They both quickly followed suit. _

_They squatted around the extendable ears, hiding in a nearby empty cubicle. _

_It was Robard's voice they heard first._

"_So you're saying they've escaped from Azkaban because of one of _my_ aurors?" Robards demanded. _

_The short witch spoke quickly in a high, feminine voice. _

"_It's still under ministry wraps. They've got a team of senior aurors working down there at the moment. You're weren't to be informed until we found a lead."_

"_BUT THEY ARE MY AURORS!" Robards bellowed._

"_And yet again," the witch said fiercely, "they've lost the prisoners!"_

"_Silencio!" _

_The ears went quiet. Harry, Ron and Hopkins dropped the ears, looking at each other with wide eyes. They slowly returned to their cubicles. _

_Once the witch left, Robards came out of his office. _

"_Right boys," he said roughly. "I'm going to need you to apparate over to Azkaban. There's been a breakout. Some aurors are already pursuing the criminals, so we need a damage assessment of the Azkaban. Be back in half an hour." _

_Harry, Ron and Hopkins all nodded, getting to their feet and donning their protective shield robes. One by one, they whisked away to Azkaban. _

_Harry arrived first. Ron appeared by his side in a second, Hopkins not long after. _

_The three junior aurors stared up the vast prison. Sucking in a huge breath of air, Harry started forward. They reached the gates and passed through them, as if they were made of smoke. _

_They were in a large room, there appeared to be a desk in the corner. The room was dimly lit. _

"_I'm getting a bad feeling about this," Ron said, easing backwards slowly. _

_Harry glanced back around to look at Ron, and his eyes widened._

"_Ron! Watch out!"_

_Ron was grabbed from behind by one of the escaped prisoners; a freezing spell shot at his back. Ron's limbs snapped to his body and he fell forward onto the concrete ground with a sickening crack. _

_Suddenly, they were surrounded by escaped inmates. _

_Hopkins and Harry began shouting spells at them. The air quickly became a mass of colours and sparks. _

How had they got their hands on wands…? _Harry wondered; shooting a hex at who he thought was Rodolphus Lestrange._ _Then he saw the answer. _

_Lying on the floor in the corner of the room were the bodies of several ministry officials, who guarded Azkaban's gates. Their wands had been pulled out of their hands. _

_Hopkins and Harry had managed to stun, disarm and bind the majority of the Death Eaters before Ron had silently forced the spell off him. Jumping to his feet, he hurried over to their side, to cover their backs. _

_They were being circled, back to back to back. _

"_Hopkins," Ron whispered. "Get back to the ministry; warn them about what's going on. Tell them to send backup."_

_Hopkins grunted an agreement, sending spell flying at the Death Eaters. As he began to step forward to apparate back to the ministry, Dolohov sent a blue shot of light at him. It exploded on Hopkin's chest and sent him crashing into the wall on the opposite side of the room. _

_The Death Eaters cheered. _

_Harry was hit next. A spell sliced his leg open, and he fell to the ground, shooting spell after spell at the approaching Death Eaters. _

"_Ron," Harry croaked. "You have to get back to the ministry."_

_Ron turned around to see Harry on the ground, a puddle of blood surrounding him. His face was as pale as a sheet. _

"_I'm not leaving you here," Ron said, stunning Dolohov. He sent a charm after it to bind him. _

"_Ron just _go!_" Harry cried forcefully. "I'll be fine!"_

"_Shut up Harry, I'm not leavi–"Ron retorted, but just cut off as he ducked, just missing a curse sent towards him. _

"_GO! Warn the ministry!" Harry screamed, and Ron disappeared. _

_As soon as Ron was gone, Harry blacked out._

_Harry woke up. The room was dark._

_He placed a hand to his forehead – it was throbbing. _

"_Awake, Harry Potter?" whispered a voice. _

_The body stepped closer, but Harry couldn't make out the face or voice. _

"Lumos,_" the voice said. _

_The small room lit up. _

_Rodolphus Lestrange stood before Harry, his wand brandished. _

_Harry coughed. "Wha–what, do you want?"_

_Lestrange looked at Harry with an ill concealed smirk. _

_Without a word, he pulled a knife out of his wand. It expanded as he drew it out. It was dripping with a thick paste. _

_Lestrange placed the knife gently on Harry's chest. Grinning, he pressed down, breaking into the skin. Ignoring Harry's agonising screams, Lestrange dragged the dragger across his chest. He made another incision, and another, and another. _

_Harry blacked out again. _

_When he came to, Harry couldn't feel his left arm, chest or legs. Lestrange was still there. Once Harry's vision was clear, he noticed Lestrange had Harry's wand in his pant pocket. _

_As he made another slice in Harry's right leg, Harry's arm darted out. At the same time as Harry's fingers wrapped around his wand, he screamed. His whole body was suddenly burning. He was sliced open. _

_How was he still alive?_

_Focusing, Harry apparated to the first place he could think of. He landed in Hermione's bedroom, and passed out. _

_

* * *

_

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed, sobbing.

Harry stared at her grimly.

"You're okay now, you're okay," Hermione repeated, not sure whether it was more to her benefit than his.

"Why couldn't you go to St Mungo's, Harry?" Hermione whispered gently.

"I… I don't know," Harry whispered, his eyes closed. "I felt safer here."

"Harry…?" Hermione asked.

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you apparate away with Ron?"

Harry stared at her. "It's ministry protocol. There were only a couple of them left, and I don't think Ron realised how bad the wound in my leg was. We're supposed to stay there to keep track of their movements."

Hermione nodded, thinking it was a ridiculous protocol, and tightened her hold on him.

* * *

Later that day, Hermione flooed over to the ministry. It was flooded with reporters. Harry's name was being thrown about. In fact, it was just about the only thing she could hear.

As the reporters noticed Hermione, they all stampeded towards her.  
"Where's Harry Potter?"

"Have you seen him, Miss Granger?"

"Is he alive?"

"Is it true you were there when he died?"

Hermione raised her wand to her neck and performed the sonorous charm.  
"Harry Potter is not dead," she said loudly.

The lobby of the ministry was silent for a second before it exploded into sound again.

"Have you seen him?"

"Is it true he's missing a leg?"

"Is this all a ploy?"

Sighing, Hermione pushed her way through to the elevators. Once she had shaken off the press, she hopped in an empty one and pressed the buttons that would take her to Ron's office.

Once she reached his department, she hurried over to Ron's cubicle. He looked up at her. Ron's eyes were sagging and had bags under them. His hair was fluffed up, and he had food spills all down his shirt. He looked terrible.  
"Hermione," he croaked, staring at her. It seemed to be the last straw for Ron Weasley, who got to his feet, pulled Hermione into an embrace and broke down sobbing.

Hermione rubbed his back.

"I've killed Harry," he sobbed, speaking bitterly.

"Ron," she said gently, pulling away from him. "You haven't, Harry's at my place."

"A-are you sure?" Ron said.

"Yeah," Hermione said with a gentle smile. "Come on, let's find Robards and Shacklebolt, and we can apparate over there."  
Ron nodded and ran to Robards' office. Robard sent a curt nod to Hermione as he hurried of his office to locate Shacklebolt. Ron padded over to her slowly.

"Does he blame me?" Ron whispered, staring at his feet.  
"Of course not, Ron!" Hermione said, pulling him into her arms.

Ron nodded.

"Ron… what happened to Hopkins?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"He's in St Mungos', he's recovering."  
"So he's alive?" Hermione breathed. "Thank god."

Robards returned with Shacklebolt soon after.

"You've found Harry Potter?" Robards asked sharply.

Hermione nodded.

"He's at my apartment. You can sidealong if you want…" she motioned for Robards to take Ron's arm, and then offered her own to Kingsley.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Kingsley said, giving her a small smile.

She nodded, and apparated away.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed as they all appeared in Hermione's living room.

Harry looked up from his place on the couch, and stood up shakily to return Ron's enthusiastic hug.

"When we returned to Azkaban and you'd gone, I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Ron said.

"Not getting rid of me that easily," Harry said softly, chuckling slightly. He nodded to Robards and Kingsley.

They both conjured chairs and began to ask Harry what had happened. Ron sat down on the couch next to him. Harry recounted his story for them.

Walking into the kitchen, she began boiling water for some tea. Hermione sighed with relief.

Harry was going to be okay.


End file.
